Friday, 21. January 2011
Apparently it is not common for ultrasound technicians to refer to girl parts as “labia”. I have gotten a lot of questions about my last blog, the most common being – did she REALLY say that?
First of all: This blog is straight non-fiction.
Second of all: Even IF I made shit up to make our lives seem more cool and interesting, there is no way in a million, billion, trillion years that the word labia would have ever come to my mind in regards to how I found out I was having a girl. I thought there was some unwritten universal rule that girl and boy parts are referred to as “pee pee” for at least 3 years.
Third: She was a doctor, so she was probably being all professional and whatnot. It was Laef and I who couldn’t handle hearing about our daughter’s labia and made it like a 6th grade science class all giggly and white-faced. (Seriously, you should have seen the look on Laef’s face when she said it).
Obviously, we’ve never been through this before so I had no idea that most doctors don’t show you the labia. (I am really just enjoying typing labia at this point because I am immature and it is STILL making me giggle). But, after talking to my sisters, my friend Allie, my friend Amy and hearing from other moms, maybe the labia-bomb was meant specifially for us so that I would have something to blog about! Yay!
When people (my sister) email or text me and say, “You haven’t written a blog in two weeks! I am sooo bored. Write something. What is going on?” I feel bad for the blog neglect, but because this is a blog about our lives, there are weeks that go by where I have nothing to write.
A typical day is:
7 a.m. Wake up
Me: “Do you need a lunch?”
8:12 Rush out the door.
8:20 Yell at the same bitch in the BMW with weird bumper stickers who I somehow get behind every fucking day on Wilshire.
8:35 Arrive at work 5 minutes late.
11 a.m. Eat my morning snack (the same snack every single day)
12:30 p.m. Gym at lunch
4 p.m. Afternoon snack (the same snack every single day)
5:30 Leave work and cuss the whole way home on Sunset
6 p.m. Arrive home. Feed Sanch. Kill time until my stories come on.
7:20 p.m. Call Laef.
Laef: “Hi. Is everything OK?”
Me: “Yes. When are you coming home? I’m bored.”
Laef: “Same time I always come home.”
7:45 p.m. Laef arrives home. He plays Sporacle or reads. I read/watch crap TV/nap.
Me: “I’m tired.”
Laef: “Seriously. It’s 8:30″
Me: “K. I will push it til 9.”
9 p.m.: Go to bed.
I’m not saying it’s lame (OK, it’s kind of lame). I like my routine and I like structure. But it doesn’t really bode well for good blog stories.
And then one day Laef puts oranges under the Christmas tree.
Or our doctor says labia.
And a blog post is born.
If not for Laef, this blog wouldn’t exist. And I know when he’s really proud of something funny he has said or done because he will follow it with: “Blog that out.”